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An odd number. To some an unlucky number. To a 12 year old to is the beginning of the teen years. To me is is a new beginning. It is the beginning of a new stage in life as my “little girl” turned 13 today. She is the last of my girls to enter then teens. Now I have 3 teens girls in my house. I still have my little man but the girls are different. I have seen the relationships between my girls grow stinger as they age but with this new age dawning for the last one…she is now “official”. She is now an “equal” as she is now a teen.

I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. I see it all in my mind as if watching a favorite movie over and over. I was teaching when I went into labor. I was not ready and not sure what was happening. My other 2 were either induced or had water break. This was new. My husband was at home with one little one and the older one was at school. Soon we were all on the way to meet a new family member.

13 would not wait. My labor was short and easy (as easy as labor can be). She came into the world with her dad watching intently. He swore she was his long awaited boy. No such luck. She was a pretty pink princess…queen I should say. She would be spoiled as the youngest for many a day. Hence her nickname that still holds true…Queenie.

She is a fighter. She is determined and dedicated. She is the best friend and sister anyone could ask for. She is loyal as the day is long but don’t cross her. She won’t soon forget when someone does her wrong. She loves peanut butter and Law and Order. She loves music and Pandora. She loves Narwalls and making people laugh. She has a sense of humor that can make even the sourest person laugh. She is unique and sensitive. She won’t ever let you know outright that you hurt her but there is no denying the look on her face. She loves basketball and the Bulls. She is determined to understand football this season to better understand her dad. She loves to do hair and creates new hairstyles on a a daily basis. She is the queen of my heart.

13 … to some it is unlucky. To me, it is my lucky number. I am the one who got the best gift today. I got to enter new territory new with my Queenie and her sisters. I am gifted. I am blessed. Peace.

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Hero is not a term I use loosely. It is not one I banter around like a tennis ball. I admire many people but hero is reserved for only a few people in my life. One person I call my hero is my friend Kelly. She is an amazing, wonderful and gifted woman who teaches me something new every day.

Kelly’s life has been full of twists and turns … The unexpected and difficult seems to find Kelly but she takes it in stride and makes each look easy and planned.

Kelly and her husband adopted a daughter, Gillian…Gilly. She is a beautiful girl with the breathtakingly blue eyes. Looking into Gillys eyes is looking right into her heart. Gilly grows more stunning and more interesting with each passing day.

Gilly is unique in so many ways. You see Gilly is autistic. Parenting an autistic child was not what Kelly had planned but she is so good at it. She is an amazing mother who makes sacrifices like no other. The challenges she faces on a daily basis are mountains in my world but to Kelly…they are speedbumps.

Soon after they adopted Gilly, Kellys husband passed away. It was totally unexpected and devastating to Kelly. She swerved a bit but never stopped. Her determination to keep going in the face of this devastating loss was and is awe inspiring.

Along the way there have been so many other challenges for Kelly and Gilly such as Kelly’s battles with multiple rounds of cancer. However Kelly manages to keep a smile on her face and, while her path may swerve a bit, she never strays to far from the center. There never seems to be a battle too tough or a mountain too high.

They say that God saves his toughest battles for his strongest soldiers. Well, my friend, Kelly, must be the Goliath of soldiers. God has given her the toughest battles and she always comes out a winner. She is a hero. She is my hero. She is my friend and I am truly blessed.

If you would like to help Kelly help other parents and children with autism, click here.

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/kelly-weaver/alca1

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An open letter

Dear lady at the gym,

I see you here often. I see how you sheepishly use the equipment and hand weights. I have watched you for months. I have watched as you get stronger and more confident. I want walk over and congratulate you on your progress but I fear you might think me insincere.

I have watched the other gym members reactions to you. I see their eyes roll as you hold on to the treadmill to keep your balance. What they fail to notice is how your speed on the treadmill has increased. I see the giggles of the other females as you try the elliptical. What they don’t know is that it has taken you months to build the confidence to even try that machine. I notice as you lift the hand weights how the others In that corner look away. They are missing the fact that you have gone from a 2 pound weight to a 6 pound weight.

All those people see is the overweight woman who is not like them. All they see is the outside. Poor things. They don’t notice the true strength you process. They don’t see the determination on your heart.

I can not imagine the strength it took for you to come here the first time and the perseverance it takes to come back each week. I know that you seem like me a long time ago. I was overweight, out of shape and scared. I want you to know you are not alone. I want you to know that you are improving and I notice even though no one else might. I see you…. I see you for all that you are and I am so proud of you. Peace.

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Don’t tell me something can’t be done. I will find a way to get it done. I may get it done at the last minute, skidding in just at the buzzer but I get it done. I can procrastinate with the best of them and can make excuses better than a kid who didn’t finish their homework. But given a challenge, I find a way.

Today I needed to find a way. There was a lot to get done. A meeting this morning before school, a full day of teaching and then coaching 30 little girls on their fist day of Girls on the Run. If that is was not enough, I ran my long run for the week….10 miles. I did run it on the treadmill so I could help with homework and be available to the kids…but multitasking is something I do well! The kids cycled in and out and I listened to one read, helped another with mock trial questions, and just listened to another talk. I was a captive for them. However the distractions were just that, distractions from the boredom of the dreadmill. Time with my kids is time with my kids.

Dinner and early bedtimes for all in the family tonight. I am tired but not done yet. I need help now. I want to coach more girls to become the best they can be helping them to find their own tutu spirit within. The marathon is only 26 days away and I am working hard to get there. Help me help more girls. Don’t tell me it can’t be done.
Please visit my donation site by clicking here!

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There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with all its possible opportunities, its burdens, its large promise. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow’s sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise.

Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, for it is yet to be born. This leaves only one day, Today. Most persons can muster the strength to fight the battle of just one day.

It is when you add the burdens that are beyond our control of Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down. Let us, therefore, live Today and make the best of it, and live our

lives, ‘one day at a time’. And remember to find something to smile about every day (even if you have to look in the mirror) and then share it with a friend.

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